


Statement #0121206

by kwardart



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blood, Body Horror, Original Statement (The Magnus Archives), Spiders, Statement Fic (The Magnus Archives), The Corruption, The Magnus Archives Season 1, body horror light, gore mentioned, ingrown hairs, puss - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:55:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25525537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwardart/pseuds/kwardart
Summary: Statement #0121206Statement of Mary Kinsler, regarding odd pustules that had grown on her legs.Original Statement given December 6th, 2012. Audio recording by Jonathan Simms, head archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.Statement Begins
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Statement #0121206

Statement #0121206   
Statement of Mary Kinsler, regarding odd pustules that had grown on her legs.  
Original Statement given December 6th, 2012. Audio recording by Jonathan Simms, head archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.  
Statement Begins 

I can’t stand skin blemishes. Pimples, ingrown hairs, moles, anything that makes the skin unclean sets my teeth on edge. I go to great lengths to ensure my skin is clear. Laser removal of hairs, skin treatments, washing my face at least six times a day. Anything to ensure that no bumps or puss filled marks on my skin can be found. I’m sorry, I’m all ready rambling. I don’t think I was always like this. Borderline obsessed with every open pore on my face. I have always taken my hygiene very seriously but after what happened it is as if I can feel the dirt and puss slowly being to ooze its’ way out of my skin and leak its putrid mess over me…I’m getting a head of myself. 

It started a few days ago. I had just finished my morning routine: shower, wax, lotion, pore scrub, plucking stray hairs, and the second face wash of the day. I was just about to get dressed when I felt a small bump on the back of my thigh. Slightly panicked I looked in my mirror and saw the small red bump, when touched the skin felt tender and rough. Now, being as scrupulous about my hygiene that I am, I know that the first rule of ingrown hair removal is to never do it yourself. It causes more problems than its’ worth so I set an appointment to get that disgusting lump of skin and hair and puss and putrescent filth off of me. The clinic I go to, just on Lavender Hill, was able to get me an appointment for the following Friday. I tried to put it out of my mind. Just go about my day and forget the pustule. But I couldn’t. 

Each time I sat; I could feel the liquid squishing. Every movement I was sure to pop the thing and spread it’s revolting discharge all over my leg and infect every pore in sight. By lunch I couldn’t stand it. I work as an accountant. Did I mention that? Filing numbers, contacting clients, ensuring financial stability, and the like. I’m good at my job, everyone loves me, I’m do for a raise at the beginning of the new year but I could not let my mind wander from the sickening idea of bump on the back of my leg. When I couldn’t eat lunch, my boss sent me home, believing some lie I made up about a stomach bug. I was relieved to be on my way home, where I could ensure the blemish would do me no harm. I thought the journey home would calm me but it didn’t. 

The entire train ride was thinking of the way the puss would surely ooze of the pore if only I squeezed it. If I dug my fingers into the greasy skin, the pads of my fingers becoming wet with slippery oil, the reddening of my skin, as the yellowish white concealed oils and skin broke through the inflamed pore. The relief mixed with absolute disgust as the skin would finally give to my pressure made my stomach flip. When I got home I nearly bolted up my stairwell. I live in an older apartment, crumbling a bit around the edges but still enough. 36th and Mulberry Ave, fourth floor. With all the skin care products I buy, more humble accommodations were necessary. It’s well worth it. 

As I slammed the door pulling off my clothes as quickly as possible and making my way to the floor length mirror my stomach turned uneasily. Unsure of what I would see. When I did relocate that greasy blimp on my skin, my heart stopped. It was twice the size, the puss was visible, and so was whatever was in the pore. Looking at it I thought it was a trapped hair or maybe some of the dirt that caused this putrid blemish on my perfect skin. I won’t lie to you, I became ill, vomiting over my floor just thinking about the dirt or hair trapped in that slime. Gods how I wish it was either of those things. As I said before, I know never to remove these things on your own but staring at the red bump with white shaded with…with something inside of it just below a small layer of skin, I couldn’t wait. Swallowing the taste of bile, I began to press into the tender lump of oil and skin. It was tough skin, and it took some time, how long I spent digging into my thigh trying to get this thing to pop I can’t say. I can tell you that I was drawing blood from around the area before finally: I squeezed in just the right spot. The puss that plopped out between my fingers was slow moving and had a water like texture. I saw the dark texture that had made me ill. Thinking it was a troublesome hair, I reached for my tweezers but froze. The thing that had come out of that pore filled with oil and puss moved. 

This is the part that made me decided to come here. To this institute of yours. You could chalk the rest of this up to obsessive behavior about skin care. But this next part, still makes me sick. That dark thin line that was sticking out of the bloody and puss covered crater now in my thigh moved. It was a small movement at first, just a twitch. Maybe my leg muscle was twitching or it was a trick of the light? No. I watched as the twitching grew into more steady movements. Then, another thin line of twitching darkness came from my skin. It was then I used my tweezers to pull at the twitching hairs. To my horror, as I pulled this mass of dark twitching lump from the bleeding skin, I realized it was not a hair but a spider. A fully formed spider was now being pulled from my thigh. Wriggling in the blood trying to release itself from my tweezers. It’s mandibles twitching and it’s legs squirming. With a scream I threw it to the ground and smashed it. Over and over and over again I slammed my foot into the carcass. Making sure the thing was dead. I don’t know how many showers I took that night. Of course it didn’t help. 

The next morning I didn’t start my routine like always. Instead I made my way to the mirror. I was trying to convince myself that I had imagined the spider. That I was just tired or stressed or even experiencing a fever dream. But what I saw staring at that mirror almost made me shriek. Both backs of my thighs were covered in puss filled lumps all with little black lines, twitching beneath the surface. I knew I should have waited until the laser removal, should have called my dermatologists, or any doctor at all. But I couldn’t stop myself. One by one I pressed and squeezed and pulled at each of those putrid lumps of skin. Until both of my thighs were raw and bloody, smeared puss and bits of dead insects all across my skin. I lost count at thirty insects and arachnids that I plucked from my skin. Once I cleaned myself up, I came here. I don’t know why. I honestly don’t it’s not like you can help me. I can already feel them crawling beneath my skin again. Can feel my pores aching as oil is pressing up against the skin the spiders form in their warm and liquid cocoons buried in legs. I don’t want to look, I don’t want to know. But the twitching, I will have to press out the greasy skin and let the puss flow over my finger tips. I have to be clean, I must be clean again. 

Statement ends. 

Well, I think it is clear to say that only reasonable portion of this statement was Mrs. Kinsler’s description of her behavior as “obsessive”. Since Mrs. Kinsler is the only person involved with these puss filled spider cocoons, there is no way to corroborate her story. Still, I asked Sasha to verify some of the details. Mrs. Kinlsers did in fact work as an accountant at Simon and Burks Finance Agency, but was fired two months after this statement was given, as she had not returned to work after she was allowed to go home with the aforementioned stomach bug. Personally, I would have called the case at that. But Sasha being thorough, she went the extra step. She went to Mrs. Kinsler’s old apartment to inquire after her but only found that the landlord had terminated her contract. Not only had Mrs. Kinsler missed several months of payment, the apartment being home to those with low income, he gave Mrs. Kinsler six months before he went knocking on her door. The land lord claimed he had found her apartment completely abandoned. Save for a large colony of siders that seemed to be living off of a small piece of puss filled meat, laying in front of a floor length mirror. End recording.


End file.
